


Inheritance

by theLiterator



Category: Marvel 616
Genre: Angry Sex, Extremis Tony Stark, Grief, M/M, Post Civil War, Post Death of Captain America, Tony Stark Has Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-23
Updated: 2015-02-23
Packaged: 2018-03-14 17:28:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3419339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theLiterator/pseuds/theLiterator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“This doesn’t mean I like you,” Bucky said. </i>
</p><p> </p><p>  <i>“Of course not,” Tony said. <i>Nobody</i> liked him, but that had never stopped him from getting laid before. </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Inheritance

**Author's Note:**

> Familiarity with what happens after Steve dies in 616 is necessary for this to make sense.

Tony watched Bucky from every camera angle, of which there happened to be quite a few in the Director’s office. He zoomed in so he could see every twitch of anger in Bucky’s cheeks, every glint of malicious blame in his eyes, and when he lined that up with the 63 different video files of Captain America’s death? Well, it meshed together quite nicely until Tony was almost numb from it all. 

“I won’t register,” Bucky told him, and Tony can tell he’s waiting for Tony to say ‘too bad, nevermind,’ and demand the shield back, but he can’t do that, because Steve asked him to look after Bucky (the man before him is as far from Bucky Barnes as Iron Man is, but still, he can’t think of him as anything but Bucky, because Steve couldn’t, and Tony is lying on the steps of a courthouse, bleeding from a fatal wound meant for the man arresting him.) 

Tony nodded instead. “Of course not. Just—just keep in touch?” he asked, and he was so very, very exhausted, so he shunted more processes off to one of the servers in the basement and rubbed his temples and shut down the video feeds of the back of Bucky’s head. 

Bucky opened his mouth like he already had a smartass remark half-formed, and then he hesitated and snapped it shut again. 

“Why are you doing this?” Bucky asked. 

“Because he asked me to,” Tony told him. Steve had asked… so much. And Tony thought it wasn’t any better late than never, but late was all he had.

“Oh, right, and you had his best interests at heart, right?” Bucky snarled. 

“Believe whatever you want,” Tony said, and Bucky leaped forward and slammed Tony down against the desk. Tony groaned and tried to pull back up. 

“What I _want_ is to have my best friend back. What I _want_ is for you to have never got it into your thick skull to pursue this registration bullshit. What I _want_ … is… I want…” 

“Go on,” Tony said, flat and dull and wondering why he didn’t _hurt_. 

“I want for him to be here yelling at me that I can’t just beat the stuffing outta guys like you just for pissing me off,” Bucky said, and his grip on Tony’s shoulders shifted so he was leaning down across Tony’s back and if Tony didn’t know better he’d say Bucky was trying to hug him.

He choked back a sob. 

“You loved him too,” Bucky said, bald fact without emotion, but his eyes were shining in the camera feeds, and Tony accessed the feeds tracking biometrics (resolutely ignoring his own) and checked. Elevated heart rate, respiration uneven… he shut the feed down. 

“He was wrong.” 

“Maybe,” Bucky said. “But you have to admit, he never did get the finer points of politics. And if he was wrong, he was wrong in _style_.” 

Tony was supposed to laugh at that, and he tried, he really did, but it came out a harsh sob. 

“Aw, shit,” Bucky said, but he didn’t beat a hasty retreat like Tony had expected,had hoped for. (Was resigned to, from everyone else.) Instead, he hauled Tony up and around and into his arms. 

“What—?” Tony started to ask, but he wasn’t certain enough right now to even know what he was asking. 

“You loved him too.” Bucky said. “And he may have been wrong, but that’s not enough to stop someone from loving. Come here; Christ, for the second smartest man in the country, you’re pretty thick-headed. Come here.” 

Tony let himself be manhandled into Bucky’s arms, and he slumped there, the scent of Bucky’s leather and steel washing over him. He shut off the rest of the feeds until Extremis was just a hum in the back of his skull. 

“Who upgraded your hardware?” he asked after a second. 

“Tony Stark, ladies and gentlemen,” Bucky snarked, but he shrugged out of his jacket so Tony could see the arm. “And that would be telling.” 

Tony poked at it, then interfaced Extremis with it, then rewrote half the protocols governing its security. “Shitty firewall,” he muttered. 

Bucky snorted. “Arrogant ass.” 

Tony kissed him. 

It was horrible, sideways and too much spit and Bucky was a dominant son of a bitch and Tony wasn’t good at relinquishing control, but after they grappled for a few minutes, Bucky had him pressed against the desk and Tony made himself naked just to remove all doubt as to what was going on. 

“James,” he tried out, and it was as awkward on his tongue as it was in his head, and Bucky froze. 

“No. You’re the only one left who still—” Bucky shook his head and shut his eyes. “No.” 

“Bucky,” Tony replied, not acknowledging the rest of it. Bucky popped the buttons on his fly and shimmied his jeans down, and they tangled around his motorcycle boots. 

Tony smirked. Bucky glared. “Not everyone has a magic computer in their head that can _make_ clothes,” he said testily. “And I’m doing you a favor here,” he said. 

“I could always find someone else,” Tony said, and they were talking about the sex, maybe. He hoped. 

“Could you?” Bucky asked, raising a single eyebrow with a playful smile tugging just behind his lips and looking so much like Steve that Tony grabbed him by his prosthetic hand and tugged him down for another kiss. This time, Tony let him take over straight away, because it was almost as good as shunting processes to external servers. 

“Here, come on,” Bucky said, and he was adjusting their bodies so he could grab Tony’s dick with a rough palm, and Tony clutched his shoulders with both of his hands and dug in, fingers pressing at muscle and sinew and the scar tissue where metal met flesh. 

“’Kay,” Tony said, and then he groaned because of Bucky’s hand; he arched up into it, and maybe the numbness was subsiding a little bit under Bucky’s touch. 

Bucky smiled and dove in for another kiss, first his lips and then his neck, his teeth scraping against Tony’s stubble and skin, making Tony whine and writhe. 

“God, you’re easy,” Bucky said, and Tony just arched up, whined, and came, simple as that. 

Once he’d caught his breath, he shoved Bucky around, dropped to his knees, and licked a stripe up his dick. 

Bucky grabbed a handful of hair and the edge of the desk, and Tony breathed “So are you,” with enough smugness mixed in with the lust to make Bucky laugh, and then he set to sucking him off with the sort of single-minded focus he rarely achieved these days. 

Bucky was loud when he came, panting and groaning and biting off screams, and Tony swallowed because why the hell not, wasn’t like _anything_ could hurt him anymore. 

He guided Bucky down to the floor and promptly stole another hug, since they seemed to be going begging. The cool metal of Bucky’s prosthetic hand slid through his hair soothingly. 

“This doesn’t mean I like you,” Bucky said. 

“Of course not,” Tony said. _Nobody_ liked him, but that had never stopped him from getting laid before. 

“Asshole,” Bucky said. 

After a few minutes he disentangled them and found his clothes. “Unfortunately, the lady I’ve got waiting for me isn’t particularly patient, nor is she very forgiving. I’ll see you around, Stark.” 

Tony nodded, but he didn’t look up. That did not, however, stop him from watching Bucky through the security cameras as he made his way out. 

Bucky paused at Maria’s desk. “You aren’t watching out for him,” he said. Maria gave him a wide-eyed look. “See to it that changes.” 

Tony had his under armor on in time for Maria to burst through the door. “What the hell was that?” 

“Nothing,” he said, and she gave him a dubious look, but she holstered her weapon and, after a moment’s silent assessment, left him alone again.


End file.
